American History Class
by Shenive-chan
Summary: History class; its boring. Unless your teacher is Alfred F. Jones. Then it just doesn't make sense anymore. VariousXAmerica mainly Russia/USSR, China. Yeah, I said it. The UK is the dad that isn't a dad.
1. Beginnings to 1784

_American History, according to the United States of America_ (Fuck Yeah!)

_**Beginnings to 1784**_

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"There I was, working the land and making some good tobacco and cotton, just going about my business and being a nice little colony for Iggy. I swear that's all I was doing, just minding my damn business, trying to live life like god intended (for a while) and then I was all "eh this shit is kinda boring, time to make some dinero" and I was making my way up, you know? That's all I was doing. I drank his tea and shit to keep him complacent, just doing as I was told.

But then like, Arty was being a bitch. He was all, "You like tea!? Then you will like the taxes I impose on it even more hahahahaha!" Not cool. I mean, I was just a kid then, little poor me walking around, pint sized pip-squeak, working in the mills and shit trying to pay off this stupid tax.

Limey was being an overall ass on top of it too. I was paying these taxes off the ying yang and everything, and when I want a say in how things get done back home, he's all "No. Duh. You ain't part of the government here." Something like that. Mean as fuck, man, I tell ya'. I mean, we all thought we were British subjects, ya know? Like we have some representation. But I guess we didn't. I guess me and Iggy weren't as cool and tight as I thought. I got real mad. I'd been listening to this little inconsiderate prick long enough.

So I dumped his tea in the ocean. It wasn't that great anyways. Tasted like shit.

I went into his pantry, he keeps his tea there, at the top shelf. Took it into my hands, and ran out of the house. I just ran my ass off, ran until I got to the coast line, and slammed dunked that shit right into the deep blue sea. It was glorious.

Iggy was pissed! Oh man, ya'll should've been there. His face was all red, ahahahaha, it was awesome. I thought he'd bust a nut out of sheer anger at that moment. Oh man, priceless.

Anyways, he punched me in the face. Bastard punched me! Right into my beautiful face. I was pissed now too. I mean, really, I should've been grounded for that shit, you know? Not punched in the face. He kicked my ass for a bit – I didn't respond out of sheer shock, don't judge me! – and then bitch rolled on outta there. After I gathered my bearings and made sure my pristine nose was not broken I wrote a couple of letters to some bros of mine, some homies that have always been down. After I got that sent out, I moved on outta there. I ain't associating with the Empire anymore. This bird now flies solo.

Set up my own home. Nice and small, I thought, and had a meeting with the crew. All my friends were there and even George "Daddy-o" Washington made it in! Guy's a fine piece of work, I tell ya. Then there was Thomas and Adams (can't call him John, 'cause then Jay is all, "what?") always fucking around and arguing with one another. But I can tell man, I can tell they're like BFFs. Franklin came in with some hot chicks, so the party was on! Of course, though, party ain't complete until Madison comes around, dude is tight. Then Hamilton came. He's a bit of a wet blanket, but there when ya need him.

So after we boozed up a bit and shoot the shit and what have you, we got to talking about Iggy. We all agree that he wasn't cool anymore, it was time to teach him a lesson in humility. We planned some shit out and realized that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, therefore we mailed "Frog legs" Francis to join us. Francis' got it hot for making Iggy suffer, even more than me. This is the kinda dude you want on your side.

So Francis came over and he was, as expected, all for our plans and was even gonna give us more money and guns to go through with it. That was cool.

So anyways, we all signed this paper that said why Iggy sucked balls, and kinda ended it with a "Fuck you, you ain't my dad!" kinda spiel, and then mailed that shit. That done, Antonio came over and was all "También luchare! " so he was in too. He brought with him the "Dutch" Netherlands and all was cool. Like, Iggy has a lot of enemies. I felt a little bad.

Eh.

I guess there was much ado about nothing, but what's done is done.

All I can really remember after that was a bunch of fighting by everyone, some real cool heroics, Revere screaming his ass off in the middle of the night, Iggy being an ass, Francis trying to get into my pants, Antonio trying to get into my pants, a lot of me looking cool in my uniform and getting all the ladies, and then like we won whatever this shit was about.

So Iggy left my home, and I was kinda sad, I'd have to admit. He was a jerk, but he's my jerk, ya know? Well anyways, it wasn't like I wasn't ever going to see him again. True to his jerk nature, he was back a couple of years later. But that's another story.

All right kids, you got that shit down? That was chapter one through three. I guess I'll tell ya what I did after that for tomorrow. It's pretty cool, I gotta say."

The class just looked at him wide-eyed.

"All right then, read these three chapters we went over, quiz tomorrow! And then we shall continue, I swear I gotta tell you guys about this one paper that, like, I have tattooed on my back, it's called the Constitution and it is a work of genius."

The bell rang and the kids left class.

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I hope this was funny or something. No one take offense, obviously I'm making lite of a great moment in US history. I just had a history teacher in high school that was a lot like this and I thought "Damn, that would be perfect to write about."

Please review? If I get a lot, well... then soon Romance and Passion and War and Angst will abound!

REVIEW! Thank you!


	2. The Second Law of Thermodynamics

**Well, thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter! It was really encouraging!**

I have decided that every other chapter will be America giving his class. The chapters in between will be snippets and going-ons of all the teachers at the school. Have fun trying to figure out what each country teaches! I've already revealed some here!

**_A VERY IMPORTANT NOTE!_** There is some **_SEX_** here! Yeah son! Nothing too heavy, in fact it is rather quick and comical. But this does have a T rating, and sex will not be the overall focus of this story (romance though, is). I decided that for the little amount of implied or vaguely described sex it should not be bumped up to the M (mature) rating. But if anyone strongly feels otherwise, then please notify me. I do not wish to offend.

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**_The Second Law of Thermodynamics_**

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Apparently period two was a break period for US/World/European history teacher Mr. Jones. He had no class to teach, which was all well and good, his little speech on the evils of the British empire had tuckered him out. He supposed some coffee would do him a world of good. He wrote up on his whiteboard the outline of study (really, an outline for another "speech" on the formation of Mesopotamia) so that he was ready for period three when he came back from coffee break. He grabbed his rather cool bomber jacket, which he had earned while enlisted in the US Air Force, and made his way out of the classroom into the fluorescent light hallway, turning off the lights behind him.

He whistled his way down the hall and spotted his neighbor two classes down with his classroom door open. Soft talking wafted out of the room. It was Matthew – Mr. Williams to his students – trying to teach English, but most of the students sitting at the back of the class were having conversations of their own as Matthew went over the proper use of the possessive "s". Yeah, those kids weren't gonna do so hot.

He kept walking down the hall until he made it outside of the building, facing the auto-shop class and turned right. The peach blue monotone hue of the new buildings along with the gray drab of the older ones left behind and to his right gave way to the only truly green and clean place left in the high school. The area was nicknamed the "quad" for on its north side it was barricaded by the library and auditorium, to the west the main entrance and science building, east by another gray school building, and south east by the cafeteria – the building he was located in was settled behind the cafeteria. There was a rather large tree growing right in the middle along with four other ones on each corner of the space. There were dark splotches on the cement ground – old gum people had the indecency to spit out – and many benches for the teens to sit on when there was either a brunch and lunch break.

Alfred had to walk diagonally across this space in order to reach the southern-east entrance of the main building, for that was where the teachers' break room was located and where good coffee was to be had. He noticed sitting in the benches surrounding the middle tree a bunch of kids playing guitars. Off slightly to the side of the class sitting alone was Roderich Edelstein (Austria in business formalities) the school music teacher. True to his nature he had a bit of a scowl on his face as he looked over music to teach his other classes. The one class Mr. Edelstein hated to teach was this one, guitar class. He rather enjoyed orchestra, concert band, and even his little jazz group in the morning, but Mr. Edelstein hated his guitar class.

And it wasn't that the kids were bad or rude or apathetic. In fact, most were quite dedicated to learning the guitar, what with all the metal heads in the class hoping to be future rock legends. But that was the thing, the guitar for Mr. Edelstein was the epitome of vacuous musicianship (no matter how much Alfred made him listen to the genius of Les Paul) the tool of the plebeian masses. And what was worse was to go from the great concert halls of Vienna to the monotone drab of a school room. Maybe that was why he taught music outside now, the sounds crashing inside the hastily made walls of any of the buildings at the school could possibly have ruined the music for Roderich.

Deciding to leave the Austria-teasing for another day, Alfred hurried up the steps into the main building, walked down the hall and entered the teachers' brake room.

And it would have been all fine and dandy, he could've just made a nice cup of joe, added some cream, a wonderful amount of sugar, sipped it all the way back to his class, and relaxed until period three. Could've been real nice. If it weren't for England and France totally making out right next to the coffee machine.

That was the darling sight dear ol' America, land of the free and home of the brave, saw when he first opened that door. Two rather senile old men (though they don't look it, but they are damn old) making as if they were eating each others' faces. For Alfred it was like watching his parents get it on – no, really, it was. What was worse, just as Alfred made to close the door before anyone got embarrassed any further, he noted that "Frog legs" Francis had his hand down Iggy's pants. Eww.

It was all for the best that they had not noticed him come in or leave. That's how interested they were in getting their tongues down each others' throats. But really, what indecency! All right all right, America was not the most gentlemanly country or anything, in fact public displays of affection were rather normal. Yet to be done in a school! Were anyone can see! And two men! Very indecent. Mr. Kirkland should be ashamed of himself – Mr. Bonnefoy was beyond help, long long ago.

Well, that was the end of the coffee idea, he didn't know where else to get any. Maybe some of the teachers had a coffee machine or something and he could bum off them. Maybe the main office.

The prospects of bumping into any of the crazy, demented, and overworked disciples of the main office rather irked Alfred, whom found them above and beyond irritating. Except for vice-principal Toris. That guy was all right. Everyone else could kiss Alfred's ass. But c'est la vie, and he had been through much much worse for coffee (as his class would soon find out in the oncoming chapters).

Full of his trademark idiotic courage and thoroughly washing his brain of the Anglo-Franco alliance currently underway in the break room behind him, he was all ready for sneaking around Iceland and getting some coffee. He was just about to enter the main office when unwanted experience #2 arrived; in the form of big strong bear, Russia.

"Alfred! How very nice to meet here, da?"

Ivan Braginski was wearing his lightly tan scarf (though it was seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit and therefore did not need to wear it, unless it was for the sake of fashion, which was doubtful) a brown colored cashmere sweater, khaki pants, and New Balance running shoes. If not for his intimidating nature – which hung about him regardless of what he was doing – Mr. Braginski would just have stayed as that old slightly insane boring physics teacher. For all intent and purposes he dressed like a total nerd (who whore running shoes with Khaki pants!? What was the formal affair in which there was running involved that Ivan was going to attend? Why would anyone teaching physics need to run anywhere!?) and that alone made him uncool and unfit to hang around with in America's eyes. But as Russia the added level of "Crazy Motherfucker" made it downright suicidal to be even anywhere near him.

"Look nerd, I ain't got time for your shit today. I need to get some coffee so I can wake up and get back to work."

"Coffee? You are in luck! I have much coffee to drink."

Oh fuck.

"Really? Well, that's really nice of you Ivan, but you know, the coffee from here, well it has this, I don't know, this je ne sais quoi that makes this coffee special."

"Hmm? But do not always you get coffee from brake room?"

"What, do you spy on me Ivan?"

"Nyet. But when I pass you are always talking in there. Very loud."

"Well, I like this coffee now."

"Could you both shut up!? Like, it's really annoying to hear you two bickering. Besides, we don't have any coffee here loser, go away." Principal Feliks came out from the main office, ready to go about his daily classroom sit in. His hair was perfectly divided and combed, and his attire was very neat. His nails were painted a neon pink.

"Alfred, you come before there is more trouble, da?"

There was no other choice as Braginski grabbed his hand and dragged him to his classroom on the second floor. Feliks just turned around and walked down the other way. That was the last possibility Alfred had for a savior. He would not forget this betrayal!

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Mr. Braginski also had second period free. What he mostly did with that time was walk around the school hoping to catch something interesting to use later as blackmail (he knew of the Anglo-Franco alliance). It was nothing big that he asked of them. Just sometimes he need to take a brake from all those children, needed a little help from his buddy – vodka. So he'd threaten a teacher with subbing for his class while he went out to drink behind the bleachers. Yup, he was a rebel.

Sometimes, when a teacher had a little vacation going on, he'd threaten them to go work in his stead, while he stayed at home working on various things – of no importance to anyone that desired to keep their heads – while they signed in as him, so that he would still get paid for the day's work. You know, simple things like that.

But sometimes he liked coming to teach. His classroom, unlike most others, was roomy. There were computers and sinks and working stations everywhere from which it was assumed the students would work on some science project or the other. He also had a small adjacent room in which to keep all the chemicals for his chemistry class. He kept a lot of vodka in there – as well as coffee, a mini-fridge, a microwave, and a toaster.

This little room was very nice to be discreet in, since it locked automatically whenever it was closed (the kids might get in and steal some stuff otherwise) and only he had the key to open the door. This was all very much unknown to Alfred.

He did not realize that he was locked in until after he had been halfway done with his coffee and tried to open the door to get out and get back to class; third period was only forty minutes away, but his slow stroll through the schools every morning ate away at about twenty minutes. Besides, it was never too soon to leave Russia.

This was a rule to live by, and breaking such a rule led to dire consequences.

Currently the rest of his coffee was sitting on the counter to the side, while his hands were plastered up flat against the door. He was naked, and Ivan was kissing the back of his neck so softly while he pushed in and out roughly. It was a lewd position, his butt out, back arching for more. Ivan had only opened up his pants, he was fully dressed otherwise.

How had coffee turned into sex? How could Alfred lecture Iggy on moral decency at school when here he was getting it up the ass? But it felt really really good.

"Your butt is really cute. Maybe you are not fat because it all goes to butt? It is nice and round!" How did Russia get a whole sentence out when America could do nothing but moan? And he shouldn't be saying such stupid things!

Though Braginski was a very mean and manipulative nerd, he was also a nerd that was very very well endowed. This kind of nerd was handy to keep around, Alfred supposed.

They finished about five minutes before the next period was to come in. After dressing himself and cleaning Alfred up, leaving various hickeys around his neck, Ivan opened the door and let the now meek and satisfied history teacher out. His clothing was rumpled everywhere, and he walked a little funny.

"We will meet tomorrow, da?"

There were new reasons for Mr. Braginski to come and teach now everyday, much to the dismay of his students.

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Just a tease!

I would love to hear you theories on what the other countries will be teaching (I will explain why they are teaching in the first place in a later chapter). So please drop me a line (a review, perhaps?) with your ideas! I've already decided, actually, on who will teach what. But if someone makes a good case otherwise, I might just revise.

Thank you very much for your time!


	3. 1787 to the War of 1812

**_1787 to the War of 1812_**

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"So where was I last? Oh yeah! Okay, so its the year 1787, many times after dear ol' granny Ross got me a real nice flag to wear. It's been a while since we kicked out the limey bastard and we were all running around thinking about how this shit was to get going. I mean I was like thirteen at the time and having this personality crisis and all that emo stuff times a million! I didn't know whether there should be a king or some type of parliamentary system or whatever the fuck. I didn't have much power over anything back then, just some shitty paper saying the states could do what they wished, which wasn't very cool. I mean, you've got different money everywhere! No banking system or anything to speak of! Different laws, different economics, my right hand didn't know what my left hand was doing (for the record, my left hand was playing with my newly discovered vital regions...)

So yeah, then my boy Madison was all 'Hey dude, you might wanna come to Philly with me. We're like having a party and shit and it's gonna be tight for real.' And sure, he didn't really say it that way, but that's what he meant.

I went, had nothing better to do. We all got together in this fucking small ass room during summer, my balls were sweating, it was that bad. Again, we were shooting the shit and what not when Maddy was like 'You guys, I think we should help our bro America out, he's like having teenage issues, don't know what he wants to do with life. We are all wise men here, I think we can help this young guy out.' Again, he didn't really say it that way, but that's what he meant.

He took out this list thingy and was all 'Alfred, my boy, I think this will guide you well.' and then he proceeded to read the most boring story I have heard of in my life; The Virginia Plan. But I guess some other dudes were listening 'cause they started getting mad, specially Paterson. That dude was pissed off. He kept saying 'That ain't fair, it ain't! What are the smaller states to do? Left with little power to do anything!' Whenever he talked my nipples would get all tingly. So it kinda sucked when he started telling his own story; The New Jersey Plan, or as I call it, The Joysy Plan, bitch.

This got everyone fucking mad at everyone else and there was debating and fighting and god knows what, and all it made me feel was more and more angry! Until Sherman, my main man, actually told us a really awesome story; The Great Compromise. I liked his shit a lot, it spoke to my dark disillusioned teenage melodrama soul. Everyone else liked it lots too, and we decided that this would be what I would need to become a right good gentleman. Pfft.

Then something very bad happened.

The southern states wanted to count their slaves as people, 'cause then they'd get more representation and what not, the northern states knew this and were all like 'No'. And oh fuck did we fuck that part of the story up. They decided that a slave would be worth 3/5s a person, therefore making it impossible for me to calculate anything (Seriously, 3/5s? What the fuck! They couldn't have said something easier like ½ or ¾s? Shit man.)

Eventually that shit got sorted out and we came to call this story of my youth The United States Constitution, and I tattooed it on my back 'cause it was that awesome. It's a bit hard to read though, since I had to make the font very small in order to fit everything.

So then like it was apparently time to pick a fearless leader/boss to lead the awesome me, as stated in my beloved constitution. My man, daddy-o Washington won the elections and I had my very first prez in 1789. We partied like it was 1620 (with a lot more booze and chicks) until Hamilton and Adams got into another fight and then we called it a night. Party poopers.

It was a new beginning though! No one could stop me and my shinning light of freedom and justice! My whole government system started forming and I swear I got a hard on when the first Supreme Court convened. People all over Europe came over to visit me, see what I was all about, what this experiment was about. I mean, shit like this had never been tried before. I could feel that maybe some of them wanted me to fail, for sure Iggy was lookin' forward to that, but nuh uh. I ain't the type to give up, ya know? I'm a strong rugged outdoors man, living off the fat of the land and making my way through life, can't be scared of no fucking prim Euro-pussies with their tiny dogs and fancy coats. USA! USA! USA!

Ahem, ah, well, back to this. Somewhere along the way Frog Legs and Limey Bastard got into another war. I was stuck, 'cause technically I was Francis' ally, but my military was too tiny to fight off Britain (don't worry, not anymore!) So I declared neutral and that got me into even worse shit. I know they begrudged me that one. You know parents, right? They suck, don't they? Specially divorced parents! Trying to buy off your love so they can win custody battles and more money, so annoying. Hate my dad and... dad? Yeah, I got two, and what! You got something to say about that, punk! Yeah, I didn't think so.

'Cause of that Iggy and I decided that we should let bygones be bygones and just get trade going between us and the shit that used to make it nice to hang around, you know? At the end of the day I only ever wanted him to play catch with me like we used to, no hard feelings. Then Francis went insane in the brain and I went to go help him become more like me, get some democracy going and leave all this ugly monarchy shit behind. Needless to say I can talk to one dad, but god forbid I talk to the other. Iggy was pissed off to no end and took my bro Matty with him out of France's home, sitting negligence and child abuse, he was that pissed. Courts granted him custody and then the worst happened; bitch turned Matty against me! How fucked up is that limey! Can you believe that? Turning brothers against one another? Fucked up to the max, that's what that is.

That's when I decided that Iggy needed some help, he needed to learn his lesson the best way he knows how; by opening a big can of ass whoopin' on him! And on Matty too, just for good measure.

And it worked! Believe you me, I was surprised as fuck too. I mean, here we all are, just fighting with one another, and I kinda win (I win, I did win, don't let anyone tell you different!) And I felt good, Iggy felt good, Matty felt good. I think maybe we hadn't addressed some of the issues left behind, you know? I mean sometimes you gotta get a little rough in order to let all that anger go and move on. And we did that, we fought and then were all okay that's done, I'm not really that angry anymore – lets go get a burger or something. It was cool after that, I really felt like family.

Francis though... that's a different matter for another day..."

Mr. Jones looked up at the clock at the back of the class, "Oh crap, almost time for the bell, huh? Okay then, you guys got all that right? I guess we can go into 1817 and the start of American Nationalism – FUCK YEAH! – for next week. Please read the chapters, goddammit. I didn't like how many kids I had to fail last time."

A shy girl at the front of the class, maybe the class nerd, raised her hand and said, "Mr. Jones, we would like to study more for your class... bu-but we are having a hard time in Physics, it-its hard to keep up with bo-both." most of the other students around heard agreed, nodded their heads, sighed in recognition.

"Who's your Physics teacher?" Mr. Jones asked.

"Mr. Braginski!"

Fuck. America's eye twitched, "Well, fuck that guy, who needs Physics anyway, huh? I mean really! Ya'll are first and foremost Americans, and this shit is important to know! I'll talk to him, you guys just study for your next quiz, no excuses, kay?"

The bell rung and the class left.

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Yeah.

Sorry this was late, and maybe not as funny as the first. :( I tried, I have finals coming (again) and then summer break! More work will get done on this during the summer, hopefully.

I want to thank everyone who responded, you guys are the crème de la crème!

I also apoligize if I offended anyone in this chapter. Can't tell ya that America has always been fair and nice, 'cause he ain't. And really, its just gonna get more offensive as we go, lol.

Also, Joysy is how anyone outside of Jersey thinks Jersey people sound like. Sorry 'bout that, New Jersyans, it was just funny.

Review?


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